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Literature Text
one time someone told me:
a tiger does not lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.
and i stood below the summer thunder
with my umbrella unfolding before me
in vast planes over my head,
my wild heart thrumming
like the jungles i was bred for.
tigers do not lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.
there are stripes painted in asymmetry over my body,
over the flowing capillaries in my wrists
and the chambers of my heart.
i wear my stripes like i wear my ribs:
with pride and shame.
and all my life i’ve been lauded like a lion,
taught like a tiger,
brought up like a boot—
but i am an ant in a world of sheep,
and i’ve got no courage to spare when i traverse beneath hooves.
a tiger does not lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.
and i stood below the summer thunder
with my umbrella unfolding before me
in vast planes over my head,
my wild heart thrumming
like the jungles i was bred for.
tigers do not lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.
there are stripes painted in asymmetry over my body,
over the flowing capillaries in my wrists
and the chambers of my heart.
i wear my stripes like i wear my ribs:
with pride and shame.
and all my life i’ve been lauded like a lion,
taught like a tiger,
brought up like a boot—
but i am an ant in a world of sheep,
and i’ve got no courage to spare when i traverse beneath hooves.
Literature
Downpour
To be ignored, is like a downpour,
where even the raindrops refuse to hit you.
Rain overflowing the gutters in these dirty veins,
as yellow sneakers drag street lines into the cracked pavement.
Hansle and Gretel crums,
a simple reminder of where I house my pain.
If only my lashes had length enough, to hide tears,
but i'm afraid the only growing lashes are from the whip I taste daily.
Downpours come and go in life.
Don't seek shelter under a weathered umbrella,
if the rain wont get you the wind surly will.
Literature
metronomes
i have a nervous habit of ghost-writing words in cursive
when people shout them at me. it all started when
my father taught me how to lose track of time, that
a moment multiplied into a million is just a minute
rolling itself into an hour and before we know it,
every year is stuck in caps lock.
ridiculous
i curl it into my left palm with my right index finger
and practice spatial reasoning as Einstein once did,
how he built a vast sea of
experience
they say that music is the universal language.
tell me, does every room have a tuner or a clock?
our metronomes tick in
time
most don't have enough but i've always known
a surplus. what d
Literature
On Autopilot
Breath in, relax -
let the fresh, chilling air
brush against your skin;
your body a moving statue
amongst the crowd
of silent silhouettes.
Breath in, try to relax
as you go about your day;
as you attempt to fit in;
struggling to survive.
Devoid of all emotions,
your soul is gone -
your body on autopilot.
No thoughts; no opinions.
You are, just there...
merely existing.
Breath in, as you panic -
worrying about your future
and the things that await you.
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april 28, 2014
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Comments2
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Very nice, good contrast between what we're taught to be and how we're brought up vs what and who we really feel like